Slut
by Danny Rose
Summary: It's mostly an excuse for lemons... and minor fluff. There is plot... In short: Harry was dating Seamus. Seamus publically embarasses him and splits up with him. Seamus confides his true reasons. Harry runs off to the Slytherin common room. Drarry. Smut.
1. Part One

Harry buried his face in his pillow, closing his eyes tight and blinking out the pitiful tears that were forming in their corners. Ron bit his lip, sat at the end of his bunk, failing at his new post of Harry's 'agony aunt'.

"Maybe he just… changed his mind?" He offered, lamely. Harry sobbed, shoulders heaving once as he exhaled his pent up emotions. "Come on, Harry. It's hardly the end of the world, is it?"

Seamus Finnegan had broken up with Harry Potter. In Harry's melodramatic mind, this was a hundred million times worse than anything Voldemort could have ever come up with. He was rejected and spurned, and it had been a public split, too. Seamus was still down in the common room, shying away from all of the evil glares of Harry's fan-club, lead by Collin and Dennis Creevy, as they pitied their heart broken hero. The embarrassment was the worst thing to hold down.

"I only wanted to hold his hand, Ron. It's not like I was about to propose to him or make a wild show of eternal love and unbreakable monogamy." Harry snorted. "Like Seamus could have kept it, anyway." Ron swung his feet and shifted himself awkwardly.

"Seriously though, Harry. You can do way better than that. Come on: Finnegan? Finnegan, seriously? You're the boy who lived, you're the -"

"Oh, cut that crap Ron. I've heard it already." Harry sighed wistfully, rolling over and dropping his head back onto the pillow. He stared at the ceiling, glaring a hole right through it. There were footsteps on the stairs. Ron stood, ready to barricade the door from Dean or Neville of even Seamus himself, but Hermione burst through and flung herself at Harry.

"Oh _god_ Harry, I am so sorry." She cooed at him, her bushy hair sprawling across his chest and clinging to his robes.

"Yeah, yeah Hermione, Harry and I were having a sophisticated chat about guy-stuff before you burst in." Hermione glared at him. Ron backed down. "Or not."

"It's just horrible, what he did Harry. Standing up and telling you he didn't want you anymore, like that little whore he is. It was so out of order. The entire house is threatening to jinx him if he doesn't apologise for doing that to you…" Harry was groaning loudly. "Harry?"

"For fucks sake… Can anyone just send him up here to talk to me? Alone?" Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Ron shrugged it off but Hermione didn't look convinced. Harry realised that he was still crying a little bit. He rubbed the corner of his eyes.

"I'll get him." Murmured Hermione. Ron stood up and stretched out his lanky arms, smiling weakly at Harry.

"Everyone's overreacting." Harry mumbled, brushing down his robes. There was a small stain on his sleeve from potions. It smelt unpleasant.

"Quidditch match in three days. No one wants you to fuck up." Ron sighed. They heard Seamus' voice on the stairs. Harry gave Ron the look that said 'I'll see you later, so piss off' and sat up in his bed. As Ron passed Seamus in the dormitory door, he tried his hardest not to glare too deeply into his eyes, choosing instead to glare at Hermione's shoes as she lead him back to the common room.

"Hey." Seamus mumbled, leaning on the door frame. He looked terrified.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry." Seamus blurted out, not realising that his response did not fully answer Harry's question.

"It's alright." Harry murmured, standing and picking up a discarded Gryffindor scarf. To his dismay, he recognised it as the one Seamus had wrapped around his neck last week as they trudged through the snow up to the front doors of the castle. He held it up to the other boy, pretending to smile. "Yours, right?" Seamus nodded, taking it and dropping it on his bed.

They looked at each other for a few more minutes before Harry took it upon himself to break the ice.

"Any reason?" He asked, referring to the whole rejection and break up incident that had taken place downstairs just a handful of minutes ago. Seamus bit his lip and nodded; once and stiffly. "And that would be?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"I'm going for a walk." Harry mumbled to Hermione, shielded by his invisibility cloak as he leant down to whisper. She glanced around, breaking her conversation with Ron for just a second to determine where he was. Ron cocked an eyebrow at her, mouthing over Neville's ramble about Arabian cacti. Harry walked towards the portrait of the fat lady, not bothering to look back.

Luckily, Fred and George were messing around with a couple of first years, threatening to lock them out if they didn't try their new enchanted bubble gum. Harry crept past them, glancing around the corridor, stepping onto the first few steps of the staircase. He could feel the eyes of the portraits around him.

He scurried down to the ground floor, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the flickering torches that were sparking to life in every corridor. Some Ravenclaws were scattered around, mingling around the doors to the great hall, most of them returning from the library. Harry moved around them, heading towards the dungeons.

He caught sight of a small group of Slytherins, all in the year below him. Smothering himself in the wall, he watched them turn a corner, deeply immersed in their conversation. Harry started sneaking up behind them. He fingered his wand in the back pocket of his jeans. They seemed to sense him and lowered the volume of their talking. The brunette boy Harry was behind suddenly turned his head, his nose inches from Harry's, searching the apparently empty corridor for any signs of an intruder. He squinted and Harry debated pressing a quick kiss to his lips, just for the fun of it.

They stopped, mumbled a password to a blank stretch of wall, watching it slide open before stepping in. Harry followed them, ducking into the shadows, spying around the room.

He wasn't so sure why he had given the Slytherin common room the evil pretense he had always imagined. It looked quite cosy, despite the dark coloured walls and high ceiling. It was mostly plushy and green, the fire a pool of amber light and glowing embers. A few third years were sat in a corner, talking quietly, their gentle whispering filling the room with the gentle, familial purr of a home. A few seventh years had taken the best seats around the fire, their bare feet stretched out across the hearth, quills scratching into their parchment as they worked their way through their N.E.W.T.s. They looked pretty relaxed. The students he had followed were making their way up some stone steps, treading carefully over the cracks, continuing their conversation.

Harry followed them, assuming that that was where the dormitories were.

He found Malfoy's soon enough. The fifth year room was empty, the beds made and the trunks closed and stored under their four posters. A few candles were lit, their light pooling in the ceiling and on the bed sheets. Harry stepped inside, the cloak still covering his frame.

He looked around the room, debating which one was Malfoy's bed, still uncertain what he would do when he found it. He heard movement in the bathroom.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, clutching the towel around his waist and stepping into the dim light. He sat down on the edge of one of the beds – Harry assumed his own – falling backwards across it and letting his towel fall loose.

Harry blushed like a virgin, admiring Draco's body, still damp from his bath. His pale skin glowed, the occasional trickle of water rolling down his neck or chest, his abdomen or over his thighs. Harry wandered over to stand in front of him, watching him as he heaved out a sigh. His body was tiny, compared to Harry's.

Draco shivered, pressing a hand into his own hair, tugging it and moaning. The silvery locks bled water as he squeezed them, soaking his pillow. Harry watched the other boy's cock twitch from where it had been resting against his thigh. His own started to harden.

Draco stroked himself, running his hands up and down his length, mewling and writhing, putting on a show as his hips bucked into his fist and his eyes closed. Harry wanted to know what he was seeing behind those parchment white lids.

"Slut." He mumbled, feeling his own dick press into the front of his trousers. He wasn't too sure why he felt the urge to comment, but he did anyway.

"Fuck…" Mumbled Draco. "Call me it again." Harry swallowed.

"Slut." He growled, slightly louder. He started to unbutton his fly, palming himself through his boxers. "Little slut." Draco writhed, parting his thighs slightly, tickling his balls. Harry watched in amazement.

"Shit, baby… want you… so bad…" Harry licked his lips. This was so wrong, so obscene, watching his supposed 'arch enemy' touch and pleasure himself at his feet, but it was turning him on too much for him to care.

"Such a filthy whore…" He murmured again. It seemed Draco liked it when he insulted him, which, to be honest, didn't really make any difference from normal. "Dirty little bitch." Draco stroked himself faster, his thighs spreading a little wider. Harry dragged down his own foreskin as he admired their pale smoothness, wondering how Draco got them like that. His skin looked silky and Harry longed to run his hand over it, to catch it under his fingernails.

"Please Harry, please." He whimpered and Harry froze. It looked like Seamus hadn't been lying when he had told him that Draco had a possessive sexual obsession with him. "Give it to me." His thighs parted further and Harry made a small, high pitched squeak of arousal.

It was odd, how Harry immediately complied, detangling his hand from the hem of the cloak in order to press his finger to Draco's hole and slip it inside. He watched, fascinated as Draco rocked his hips down, his hand tight around his head as pre-cum spilled onto his knuckles. He was mewling loudly, telling Harry exactly how good it felt, totally unaware that his fantasy was coming true.

Harry wanted to kiss him really really badly. His mouth was just open, hot breath pulsing across his lips as he panted and whined. His chest was flushed, nipples pert, his other hand moving to tweak them as he fucked himself hard on two of Harry's fingers. Harry watched his wrists, their bony tendons rubbing against his skin, thin and delicate, the perfect personification of Draco.

Draco came. His entrance tightened around Harry's knuckles and Harry let out a small gasp, cum splattering the inside of the invisibility cloak as he climaxed; just from watching Draco. He hoped it wouldn't stain. He didn't know any decent wizarding dry-cleaners, and he certainly wouldn't ask Mrs Weasley.

Draco laid back on the bed, breathing heavily. Harry extracted his hand, pulling it back under the cloak. Draco's eyes slid shut and he wrapped himself in his duvet. Tentatively, Harry raised his hand to his mouth, licking his fingertips. Draco gazed up at the ceiling, sighing loudly. Harry turned around and left the room, thinking over the past ten minutes or so, zipping up his fly as he walked.

The next morning, as Harry was going down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione, having kept the events of his late night walk a complete and utter secret, he spotted Draco flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, drawling to them loudly. He also saw Seamus, coming down the stairs behind them, his eyes darting nervously between the two boys. Harry smiled and gave him a casual wave.

As Harry walked past Draco, he leant in slightly and murmured one word, smirking in satisfaction as Draco's voice stammered and his face paled.

"Slut."


	2. Part Two

Harry thought about Draco a lot in the days to come. The days leading up the first Quidditch match of the season. The match that was ironically against Slytherin.

Angelina had the team out at every opportune moment, determined to rival Oliver Wood's reign as captain in the previous years. She, along with the rest of the team, took Harry's self-isolation as a bad reaction to his break up with Seamus and desperately tried to drag him back into the spirit of things. Fred and George seemed to have decided that, instead of teasing him for being gay (which had, through Seamus, become even wider public knowledge) they should take it upon themselves to tease everyone else for being straight.

Harry wasn't sure what this said about the twins.

"We can share, Montague." Angelina's voice was brittle as the two teams faced each other. "One end of the pitch each. It's fair." Harry could see Draco, his broom propped up against Crabbe's shoulder. Their eyes met and both narrowed; but Harry did not feel the usual spiking hate that always prickled the back of his neck when he regarded Draco. He actually thought Draco's scowl was quite cute.

"And why would we do that?" Snorted the Slytherin captain. Graham Montague towered above her and the rest of the Gryffindor team, leering unattractively down at them. She glared back. Harry could feel Ron trembling beside him. He debated testing something.

Gently, he took Ron's hand into his and squeezed it comfortingly. Ron didn't react at first, squeezing back ever so slightly until he realised it was Harry. He glanced at him, his thick brow twitching in confusion. Harry lent in, murmuring to his hair.

"Just experimenting." Ron nodded, looking forwards again. Harry hoped he didn't take that the wrong way.

Sure enough, Draco caught sight of their hands. He smirked broadly at Harry, eyes flashing. Just as Angelina and Montague decided that they could occupy half a court each, Draco mimed 'kissy kissy' with his lips.

They kicked off and the balls were released (there were spare quaffles so each team could have their own), all fourteen players rising into the air and whizzing past each other, green buffeting red. Harry soon realised that he and Draco would be competing over the only practice snitch. They came together at the centre of the pitch, slightly higher than the other players. Harry eyed Draco's body, emerald robes swirling in the wind around his slight figure. Silver flowing hair cascaded across his face and he held himself flat to his broomstick. The two boys circled each other. Harry watched Draco's hand tighten around the handle of his broom, eyes fixed upon the way his knuckles gripped the shining wood. Something about the way he stroked the long shaft reminded Harry of their time together, only a few nights ago.

"Distracted, Potter?" Draco smirked. Harry snarled slightly.

"Not really." He glanced over at the goal post, towards Ron.

"You want to turn this into a little game, Potter?" Harry's stomach clenched and he turned to face Draco again. "Let's say… Whoever wins gets a favour off the other."

"Why would I do that, Malfoy?" The other boy merely raised his eyebrows.

"It's a deal." Harry held out his hand, determined to touch Draco. As they shook on it, eyes not moving from the other's, Fred Weasley fell off his broom.

They spent most of the practice-time circling the pitch, darting around the chasers and goal hoops, avoiding each other. Every glint of gold they saw they disregarded as something irrelevant: a watch reflection, shimmers of sunlight as it pierced the clouds. By the time the rest of their teams were leaving, calling to them to come down to relay team tactics or have a shower 'you stinky git Harry' (George), they actually started to look for it.

Everyone had gone back up to the castle when Harry and Draco had said that they wanted to practise together longer. Harry left out the word together when he explained this to Angelina.

The afternoon light dimmed, yellow easing into the blue, burning to an orange sunset. Clouds cleared and Harry hovered above the goalposts to admire the heavens. He heard the gentle rustle of Draco's broom near him, approaching him.

A tiny streak of yellow gold passed their eyes as they flew closer to each other. They both started, twisting their brooms to persue it, focusing in on the tiny winged ball. The gap between them narrowed and they bounced off each others shoulders roughly. Friction burnt their skin as the green and red cloth slid roughly with every motion of their brooms. Harry's heart was racing, his glasses pressed onto the bridge of his nose as the thick evening air whipped against his face.

Draco extended his hand, Harry's just beside it. Their desperate fingers clutched at nothing. They plummeted, racing towards the ground. Harry couldn't ignore the way the whole of the left hand side of his body was pressed up against Draco's.

For a split second he forgot about the snitch. He didn't even notice the small patters of rain that were slapping him in the face. He wasn't thinking about the quidditch match in two days or dinner up at the great hall or the incomplete divination essay. He forgot he was on a broomstick.

Being this close to Draco, as cheesey as it sounded, made him feel like he was flying.

They collapsed into the stands, stumbling to keep control of their brooms. Draco was hooting in triumph, waving the snitch wildly above his head. Harry chuckled, brushing off his sleeves of imaginary dust. He actually felt nervous, now that they were truly alone together.

Draco picked up his broom, smirking at Harry. Harry wondered why he bothered keeping up the enemy pretense. He made no move to react, merely smiling and standing, hobbling slightly where he had hit his shin on something hard.

"Where are you going, Potter?" Draco simpered, spite glinting his icy blues. "We have a deal, remember?"

"Yes, Draco. You're right; we do." Harry grinned, gripping the top of his broomstick and running his hand down its entire length. Draco, looking taken aback by the way Harry addressed him by his first name, watching Harry rub his palm over the hard wooden handle. His fingers scratched the polished surface. Something suddenly broke the tension and the two started to walk out of the stands, not saying a word as they entered their separate changing rooms.

Draco was waiting for Harry outside, leaning against the wall. He rolled his eyes has Harry approached him, hair damp from his rushed shower. They opposed each other, defensive, ready for the other to strike. Boldly, Harry stepped forward, gently placing his palms on either side of Draco's head.

"And you want me to…?" Harry raised his eyebrows slightly.

Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders and yanked him down, fingers winding in his hair. Their lips pressed together, Draco's tongue snaking into Harry's mouth. He shivered, pressing his chest against the smaller boy's, hands around his waist. Their hips rubbed together ever so slightly.

The kiss was over quickly and they both shyed away from the other for a few moments. Harry reached out and gently curled his hand into Draco's.

"I'll see you later." He promised. Draco nodded, waiting for Harry to start walking away before taking his own route back up to the castle.


	3. Part Three

Harry sat between Hermione and Ron at the Gryffindor table. Dinner was almost over and most people had left for their common rooms. Draco hadn't arrived yet.

Ron passed Harry some chicken and gravy and Hermione passed him vegetables, both waiting to hear what happened with Malfoy on the pitch. Harry just shrugged off their questions, pretending to be too hungry to want to talk. Hermione tutted, pushing away her dinner plates and getting out her Ancient Runes text book. She started revising the Greek section.

Ron prodded Harry in the shoulder.

"You know when you said _experimenting_?" His voice was hushed, glancing over at the main doors and around the other tables to see if anyone else heard.

"When I held your hand, yeah." Harry looked at Ron, voice only a fraction louder. He didn't really care who heard them.

"Right, well." Ron straightened up, confused. "What did you mean? I don't see you like that Harry… I just…." Harry chuckled.

"I don't see you like that either Ron." Harry confirmed, patting Ron's shoulder. Ron calmed down a little bit.

"Okay, sorry mate. Thought you might have…" Harry blinked and Ron's eyes darted to change the subject and avoid an awkward situation. He spotted Draco sitting down at the Slytherin table next to Crabbe, grabbing some food off his plate and starting to eat it. His eyes never left the back of Harry's head. "So who won, out on the pitch."

"Between me and Draco?"

"Yeah. He's staring at you." Harry grinned. "So?"

"Oh, he won." Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Please tell me you let him win." Ron's voice was practically a whimper, he seemed to be that terrified over the prospect of losing a Quidditch match. Harry realized that the only reason Draco _had_ won was because Harry had been distracted by…

"Yeah, I let him win." Harry chuckled, standing up. He hadn't eaten much, but he wanted to leave. Now. "Come on." He tugged at their arms, pulling Hermione away from her book, practically dragging them from the great hall. Harry stole a glance back at Draco, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before they both looked away.

Harry waited until he thought the others had fallen asleep before getting up. He was about to wrap the invisibility cloak around himself when he heard Seamus' voice from across the room.

"Harry?"

"Seamus?" Harry squinted into the darkness at Seamus' bed.

"You going to see Malfoy?" Harry nodded before realizing Seamus couldn't see him. He walked over to sit on the foot his four-poster.

"Yes."

"Does he know?" Harry nodded, the silhouette of his head bobbing slightly. "Good. I don't want him to hex me again." Harry ran his fingers over Seamus' thigh, smiling.

"See you later, Seamus." He stood up, turning away, his hand pushing the dormitory door ajar so he could slip through.

"I want to know all the details, Harry." Seamus called out, laughing slightly, watching Harry vanish under his cloak.

Draco paced the empty common room, thinking about Harry. He had debated waiting outside in the corridor, but Snape was lingering, and he'd rather not get dragged off to his office for another one of his _punishments_. The room was starting to get colder and colder, the fire dying in its grate. He knelt by it, pushing another log into the embers. The chunky wood ended up putting the whole thing out.

He opened the enchanted wall to the common room instead, peaking out to see if Harry was waiting outside. The corridor was empty and Draco was about to close it again when he felt something warm take his hand.

"Come on." Murmured a voice, pulling him out of the common room. The wall slid closed behind them and suddenly Draco was covered in a cloak. Harry was beside him, taking his hand.

"So this is the famous invisibility cloak?" Asked Draco, a little too loudly.

"Yeah." Whispered Harry. "And it doesn't block out noise, either." Draco blushed.

"Sorry." He mumbled. They started to walk down the corridor. "Where are we going?"

"I was going to go to the grounds… it's quieter there." Draco smirked. Trust Potter to be the type for sex outdoors.

They reached the front doors of the castle, unlatching the mini door and hurrying to get through, Draco first. Harry took his outdoor cloak, waiting until they had walked far enough away from the castle not to be seen before wrapping it around their shoulders. Harry stowed the invisibility cloak in his pocket, taking Draco's hand and wrapping his arm around his waist.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"A little bit." Draco confessed, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. It was nice, Harry was warm. He smelt nice too, a warm tangy scent that was sweet without being overpowering. His cloak was musty, probably never dried properly, thick and protecting Draco's body from the wind. It was a calm night, the breeze icy but slow. It pushed its fingers through Harry's hair as they walked. Draco felt slight envy for it.

They settled on the floor just outside the greenhouses. Draco shivered, pressing his face into Harry's chest. It was hard, the itchy wool of his jumper scratching his cheek. He could hear his quickened heart beat. Harry's lips pressed into the top of his head and his fingers rubbed circles and shapes into the side of his arm. Draco sighed, curling his legs in and submitting himself to Harry's affections.

It wasn't long before they were kissing harder and deeper and longer. Harry's hands run up Draco's back, finding his hair and tilting his head away. His lips kissed along his neck, nibbling gently at pale skin, tiny pink marks following the pathway of his mouth. Draco's hand cupped the back of Harry's neck, guiding him downwards. He bit the hard bone at Draco's collar, his hands pulling his shirt up his abdomen. He dipped his finger into his navel, trailing over the light hairs that lead into the top of his pants.

Draco's eyes sparkled in the light, watching as Harry's hands undid the buttons on his trousers. Black material slid down his thighs and he parted his legs willingly. He could see the bulge at Harry's groin and he fully planned on exploiting it as his.

Harry's hand wrapped around Draco's shaft and he let out a long moan, watching as the tight fist peeling back his foreskin, his head spilling pre-cum over the reddened flesh. A thumb swiped the liquid away, rubbing it into the hard length of Draco's cock, hand pumping keenly up and down.

"H-harry…" His hips rolled up, begging for more. He bent his knees up so that Harry got a good view of his hole. "Want you."

One of Harry's digits was pressed to his lips, begging to be sucked. Draco opened his mouth, humming around it as Harry's other hand moved to cup his balls, squeezing them gently. His tongue swirled around three of Harry's fingers, cock dripping with pre-cum. Harry leant forward to lick it away, eyes meeting Draco's as he took the tip of his dick into his mouth.

Draco spat the fingers out, mewling loudly in need. Harry smirked, pushing the first one inside. Draco was so hot and tight, clenching around his finger.

"Feel like a virgin, Draco…" Harry hissed, curling his finger gently, moving it in and out slowly. It dragged on his inner walls and Draco groaned loudly. The noise echoed around the empty courtyard.

"C-call me a slut again, Harry… Tell me what I am." Harry rubbed the tip of his finger into Draco's prostate, earning a scream.

"Whore."

"Fuck…" Harry grinned. He was enjoying his power. He slid a second finger in, stretching the tight ring of muscle between them. "Sh-shit…" Stammered Draco, nails digging into Harry's shoulders. He tugged at his jumper, whining pitifully. "Want you naked."

"Beg." Harry was smirking. "Beg for me Draco."

"Please Harry… Please…" Draco looked truly desperate. His cheeks were flushed, hips angled up into Harry, bucking into his hand, trying to fuck himself on it. "Give me more…"

"You're such a whore." Harry shoved his third finger in, watching Draco's face in awe as he grimaced in pain.

"Your whore." Thrusting his hips again.

"Whose?" Harry gripped Draco's hips, thrusting his fingers harder. Draco's cock was coated in his spunk, the clear liquid lubricating the sides thickly, dripping from his slit.

"Yours." Harry stopped thrusting his hand, his fingers sheathed to his knuckles. He could feel Draco pulsing around them.

"Say it." He started to curl them, angling them up towards that sweet spot inside. The one that made Draco shriek. "Say who you belong to."

"You…"

"Say it."

"I'm yours."

"Louder."

"All yours."

"Come on Draco. You can do better than that."

"Harry…"

"Yes baby?" Oh how Harry loved to patronize.

"Fuck me." Harry drew his hand away slowly, taking hold of Draco's thighs, pulling him onto his lap, tilting him so that his entrance ground against the front of his trousers.

"Still wearing clothes, Draco." Draco wriggled, trying to push Harry's pants down. He clawed at Harry's thighs, raking his fingers up his shaft, fingering the slit open so that hot clear liquid oozed onto Draco's hands. Harry groaned, dropping his head forwards onto Draco's shoulder. "Ride me, Draco."

Draco dropped his hips, his entrance swallowing Harry's dick and clenching around it tightly. Harry gasped, nails digging into Draco's hips and bruising the skin against his bones.

"You're so fucking tight Draco…" Harry growled. Draco started to move back, crying out as the head of Harry's dick rubbed against his prostate. "You sound like a two cent whore."

"Your whore." Harry's hips snapped up into Draco's, pushing inside him and hissing.

"Filthy bitch." Draco scrabbled against Harry's arms. "My filthy bitch." Harry felt sadistic, dragging his nails across Draco's arse, bouncing him up and down his cock, tugging his hair back to expose the smooth skin on his neck which he bit into and bruised with his teeth. He loved every second of it.

Yanking Harry's hair, knocking his glasses to the floor, Draco writhed and moaned. He could feel each ridge of Harry's dick when he clenching around him. Harry made him go faster every time and the burn was too much for Draco.

Cum splattered up his chest, his whole body tensing up in the shock, shrieking in pleasure before falling off Harry's lap and into the dirt at the side of the greenhouse. Harry followed soon after, spilling his release of Draco's body and staining his clothes. Draco dropped his head back, watching Harry come down from his high. Draco slid his finger along a rope of cum on his cheek, pulling it into his mouth and tasting it.

Harry propped himself against Draco's chest, shivering against the cold. Draco's arms covered him protectively. The blonde head rolled onto his shoulder, silver eyes shut with exhaustion.

"That was amazing." Harry mumbled, kissing his ex-rival's forehead.

"Shut up Potter."

"Slut."

**Author's Note: Wow. Thank you to everyone who faved, alerted and reviewed this fic. I'm so happy - I don't think anything I've ever written has received this much attention. A sign of improvement, right? XD**

**Thank you to everyone. You guys are like... so much better than DeviantArt. The best, in fact.**


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